


To Fly This Prison

by CityZenShark



Series: Readers of Nine [1]
Category: Pyre (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Female The Reader (Pyre), Gen, Gory not gory, It might come out confusing at first, My First Fanfic, Slice of Life, Update after completing True Nightwings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:48:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23428723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CityZenShark/pseuds/CityZenShark
Summary: "The advent of the Titan Stars. The ghosts of the Scribes themselves. Do you not realise what your Reader has done? Her denial of the age's end is destroying Downside! Should that you Nightwings not bring down the Commonwealth or exploiting her along the way, the longer the exiles will live. I hope you are prepared to have their blood in your hands... Especially, your Reader's."In which the Reader finds a way escape the Downside but not without sacrifice.
Relationships: Oralech & The Reader (Pyre), Sandra & The Reader (Pyre), The Nightwings & The Reader (Pyre), Volfred Sandalwood & The Reader (Pyre)
Series: Readers of Nine [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1818334
Kudos: 10





	To Fly This Prison

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Flower in the Flame](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14398980) by [Shibin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shibin/pseuds/Shibin). 
  * Inspired by [Roots](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12801426) by [taispeantas_laethuil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/taispeantas_laethuil/pseuds/taispeantas_laethuil). 
  * Inspired by [True to the End](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15901998) by [CorsicanFiend](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorsicanFiend/pseuds/CorsicanFiend). 



> Hello, hello, hello!
> 
> This is my first posted fan fiction. It's been running in my head for months since I finished the game. I've been replaying Pyre about 10 times now, and I managed to catch tidbit of things in the game's world and characters. I'll try not to put any OCs beside my Reader. The background characters gave room for that potential.
> 
> Anyhow, enjoy the story!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prologue chapter
> 
> Oralech has finally regained his freedom.

"I accept the Reader's choice. The Reader's mercy."

The moment was too good to be true and too good a dream.

Volfred's Nightwings outwitted him unlike before. The yellow wyrm ought to be free tonight. He should have rejoice but he offered it to the Reader, instead. What was so special about Volfred's shadow in the first place? She was not a mastermind like that sap. She was no soldier. Too soft, too forgiving. Her legs cannot support her weight even when she kneels. The child inside Oralech begged for her to give that freedom to him. But who would reject this last chance of returning home?

Invisible claws tear through his body. If she won't choose for herself, she will choose the wyrm she appointed. If she choose herself, then Oralech must accept it for it is done. The Scribes gave and stole hope for centuries lives after lives. They've stole his and made him roam with an accursed body. Curse them--curse them all!

A small cold hand touched his forehead. The claws inside him retreated as he looked up to find the Reader's eyes boring into his. Her left eye vibrant with sympathy. Her right eye white and blinded from the literacy mark that was burned into the side of her face. The way her bangs covered the scarred area made him focus entirely to her functioning eye.

With a sad smile she said, "I gave you, Oralech, my freedom so you may yet have yours."

Oralech stared at her for a long time. "What?" _Why?_

The yellow wyrm gave him an understanding look. Ti'zo and the large bog-crone watched in silence from afar. He couldn't tell what the bog-crone was thinking. Ti'zo seemed contented albeit melancholy. Gareph and Iq'sa who stood behind him radiate with joy. He didn't need to turn around to confirm their excitement to see him liberated.

"Do you accept the Reader's choice, Oralech?" Tariq inquired.

He did and stepped into the Shimmer pool.

The glowing waters blinded him as it engulf him. With an unexplained powerful and gentle force, he was flying with the currents heading high beyond the stars.

He'd never thought he could return home since the night he fell from the mountain. He had witnessed the pool engulfing Malik, Kirasha, and Marly many years ago. Brighton was the last person he had helped achieving liberation. Oralech was more glad to have him gone than actually freeing him.

After that, the Nightwings failed again and again. On the fourth Liberation Rite with Volfred, they finally won his freedom. Then that woman took it away. If she had not died for it, Oralech would kill her himself.

There was no point in that. There was no point of anything regarding that.

He was free! -And that was all that matters.

Oralech flew past the stars and into an ambivalent darkness what felt like hours. He thought to sleep for a bit but the sensation was too delightful to ignore so he didn't.

A part within him feared that the waters would cease if he close his eyes. He might wake up laying at the foot of Mount Alodiel again. Iq'sa would find him again. Gareph would skip days worth of sleep for his sake again. No exiles shall be free on a blooded moon for years as Volfred wouldn't carry the Nightwings' name.

A soft blue light appeared above him as if to say that none of those will happen. Said blue light burn brighter the higher he flew. Oralech heard the familiar splashes of the Shimmer Fountain before his flight ended abruptly.

* * *

The Shimmer Fountain was a close opposite to the Shimmer Pool. The area around it was two times bigger than a Rite field but radial instead of rectangular. The water limits itself inside the fountain base. It has never been contaminated as much as it never dries. It was the most preserved architecture from the age of the Empire, possibly the only one unscathed by the Commonwealth.

The fountain consisted three level of tiers towering over the tallest of saps. Each are supported by a set of arch beams, giving the sight of the spouting water more magical. Astral runes of the Old Stars carved into sphere placed at the tip, mimicking the stars aligning for a Rite. The top tier displayed the Old and the Scribes' Stars. Lenoriel, Casius, the Azure, and so on. The middle tier showed the flight of the eight races to their freedom. The bottom and largest tier pictured the Greater Titans. The fountain base was built in with four arch pillars, each bearing two triumvirate sigils. When an exile is liberated, one of the pillars will cascade with glowing water and the exile walks through it. Oralech had seen it once as a child. 

Unfortunately, his memories were inaccurate. Exiles don't walk out of the fountain. The fountain spits them out.

Oralech burst out from the waters face first to the sandstone flooring. Amid the fall he turn his shoulders and he went rolling on his sides, avoiding the possible chance of broken bones or worse, a broken neck if his horns scrapped the floor. A loud POP and a sharp pain shot out from his right shoulder as he halted the tumble. 

Oralech groaned as he sat up slowly, cradling his rigid arm. A dislocated shoulder.

He can imagine the wraith in the crystal laughing at him. He survived a treacherous fall from a mountaintop but a small tumble on flat ground may rival it. A chuckle escaped his mouth, surprising himself. "How pitiable of me."

He looked back at the fountain and saw all four pillars flowing with water. The True Nightwings' sigil appeared at cascading waters, mixing the white glow with red and blue colours. He noticed the same sigil on one leg of the pillars, the original Nightwings' sigil imprinted on the other. Has the former always been there? The longer he marveled the beauty, Oralech realised that the fountain was designed like a cage.

Exiles-to-be were shoved into cages and a cage-looking fountain spits them out.

Huh.

Something swooshed at the edge of Oralech's view. It sounded like Harp wings.

Old war drills kicked in. Oralech quickly stood up, almost slipping, and faced the dark square. This place was supposed to be filled with town guards. There was no one; not even pedestrians. Has the Highwings took over capital? It can't be. There was no smell of blood or smoke. Something else was happening.

A Harp fully clad in white raiment appeared at the edge of the pavement. "There you are! We've been waiting for someone to fly out of that fountain for hours. I was hoping you'd be someone else, really." She took off her mask revealing a conflicted smile, short teal hair and teal eyes. Colours of the Theyn clan. "I believe you know about me."

"Yes," replied Oralech cautiously. "You are the third exile whom your Reader chose to liberate."

"That's right! My name is Pamitha Theyn." She gave an acknowledging nod. "Volfred and my other companions discussed about you a lot. I get that you lost your freedom many years ago, yes?"

Anger sparked at the mention of Volfred. He must have sent her here. "I have. And I have truly regain it."

"That I can see," she said, disappointment flashed in her eyes.

 _She was hoping for another false Nightwing_ , thought Oralech. Pamitha regained her composure and gave a wider smile. "Anyway, since you're an exile, you are welcome to join the mass tonight."

"What mass?"

"The mass you and Volfred dreamed of, of course. 'We shall march together, shoulder to shoulder' I believe that's what Sandalwood kept saying."

Oralech observed her for a lie, dumbfounded. "Where?"

"The Palace of Justice at the front gate," answered the Harp. "I can show you the way to get near the front rows. It'll be filled with people by the time we get there. My companions are leading them, for your information."

"And you will be airborne, yes?"

Pamitha chuckled, "You seem to know our strategy already, Chief-Physician. Someone has to watch over our surroundings. In case anything goes south, I am to inform Volfred and our supporters waiting inside that gate. Who knows what the higher-ups' backup plans are, or if the Highwings were to attack tonight."

The light from the fountain faded away leaving the demon and Harp in the dark. A rhythmic banging echoed faraway through the darkness followed by an angry cheer. They turned their heads at the direction of noise. Pamitha smiled excitedly. "It's time." She extended her wings and positioned herself to fly. She glanced back at Oralech. "Are you coming?"

"Lead the way," he answered, blood flowing hot in his veins.

Oralech followed Pamitha who flew above him in the night sky. He passed by a main road, bazaar squares and alley after alley. There was no soul to be seen (save for the ones confined indoors who retreated away from their windows the moment they saw Oralech). Papers littered the ground, signifying the revolution's propaganda. The last time he had been here was before his sentencing. Constables had chained him up in a semi-open wagon, allowing pedestrians to freely throw insults and objects at him throughout the journey. The statues of the Archjustices, which taunted him the most, were tainted with red paint. The fourth's and the sixth's statues were broken apart. A banner with the Nightwings' sigil covered the seventh's to the ninth's statue.

Oralech was halfway through an alleyway when Pamitha signaled him from a rooftop. The walls shook as the cheer came again.

"Know your way through here?" she whispered loudly. He nodded. "Good. I'm waiting for my cue. Go ahead."

Once more, the cheer erupted. His heart thundered vigorously. For a moment, the walls seem to be closing in on him and trembled. His claws clutched into his aching arm, reminding himself, _This is no dream. This is real._ _I will not wake at that mountain. I will not wake at the Bloodborder. Not ever!_

* * *

A cur with silver fur spoke up first. His gold fang reflecting the torches carried by the crowd. He spoke of how the Commonwealth broke apart families. Families who were forced to work illegally to pay of living wages based on their blood status. Families whom had lost their breadwinner in the war and its efforts. Family members who were exiled simply for doing what they must. Curs in the crowd howled along. He ended his speech screaming, "Cast yourselves down!" and joined the howling.

The woman demon (whom Oralech recognised as the Captain Jodariel) ordered the guards standing before the gate to rise their arms against the true enemy. The ones who interlude thousands of lives to feed the ongoing war. The Bloodborder became a war zone for so long none remembered that it was used to be a mere borderland. Orphans became a norm while children with living parents turned rare. "Cast yourselves down!" she bellowed.

A moon-touched girl looking more like a child than an adult chided next. Multitude of races wearing the religious robes of Astralists and their own significant culture massed behind her. She addressed the Commonwealth's mercy was nothing of how mercy should be. The Scribes' hoped for the Commonwealth to be better than the Empire had ever been, and they relinquished it. Nobody should be punished for being loyal to their culture. The religious crowd screamed for her, "Cast yourselves down!"

The red-haired young man spoke next. He went on with his life as a child born and orphaned in the Bloodborder. The authorities saw them as no more than potential soldiers made to abide orders above all else. He added how the war can end with peace if the Commonwealth had not influence their people by spreading only what they assumed of Highwing Remnants--never directly from a Harp.

Cue shrills from the rooftop where Pamitha waited her turn. Beside her stood another Harp with blue hair and wings, who shrilled along as they threw their wings in the air. Part of the crowd gasped in fear. The Harps then flew over the mass and right to where the Nightwings stood. The blue Harp landed next to the young man who stretched out an open hand and she put her wing in it, stunning some people behind them. Together they screamed, "Cast yourselves down!"

Pamitha, her flirtatious nature absent, dared the authority to fight the war themselves. She bellowed what would the Commonwealth do if an unknown nation declared war on them simply out of fear. There were no Harps left who remembered the Commonwealth as a nation upholding kinship. The Harps were so few in numbers, they're expecting their own extinction if they do not destroy their enemy. But the casualties were not enough to stop the bloodshed. "Cast yourselves down!" she yelled.

Finally, _finally_ , Volfred rose his voice. In contrast with the white raiment, he wore a tattered cape bearing the symbol of a forked star. The mark of literacy. 

"Centuries I have lived believing that I may live through this. For centuries I have taught young minds all the lies you see as truths. For centuries you have corrupted the true meaning of mercy! I will not wait for the end! The literacy ban you uphold has destroyed an infinite amount of knowledge that could bring us to a greater time than we are tonight. Thirty thousand, four hundred and fifty one literate souls tortured and exiled. Less than a hundred get live under this sky again. Two thousand soldiers exiled for disobeying orders over what is right. Hundred thousands of civilians tossed into exile for the forgivable sins, including those who aren't of age -- who understand nothing of their crime!

"We stand here tonight for the exiles in the Downside!" The crowd cheered. "For the lives lost in the war!" The crowd roared. "For all the lives you have oppressed in the name of mercy!" The people roared in unison, thundering the starless night with all their might. The Titan Stars above shone fury. If you look harder, they seem to move as though the mob had ignited their rage.

"Come down and join us, leaders of the Commonwealth! Come down if you're holding on to your power out of fear for yourself! Come down if you wish to bring the true meaning of mercy with your people! If you refuse, then cast yourselves down. If you think the Commonwealth is at the right, then cast yourself down! We shall storm in the palace and bring you in ourselves! Cast yourselves down!"

"Cast yourselves down!"

"Cast yourselves down!"

"CAST YOURSELVES DOWN!"

_When Oralech witnessed the people of the Commonwealth, standing shoulder to shoulder and chanting together on the night of the Revolution. He watched in silence for a time. Then, he stepped toward the crowd._

_A murmur and hush moved through the gathered citizens at the sight of him. But then Oralech raised his voice with theirs, and they stood united, once again._

What happens after, I think you know.


End file.
